And The Seconds Tick Down
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.


**Disclaimer** : I don't own the Marvel Cinematic Universe or any of its characters.  
 **Title** : And The Seconds Tick Down  
 **Summary** : AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Warnings:** Potentially disturbing imagery, violence, death  
 **Author's Notes** : It took me some time to finally finish this but I managed to. Civil War was an amazing movie and it utterly destroyed me at what happened. But I decided it wasn't enough so I wanted to write an ending that followed more towards the original Civil War comics. I hope I managed to do justice for all the characters involved.

* * *

 **20.**

" I can do this all day."

A part of him expected that. Steve Rogers never did anything halfway. If he was going to keep getting in the way and stopping him from reaching the Target, then so be it.

Tony fired one repulsor blast, with FRIDAY's erratic warnings ringing in his ears, loud but distorted. But he had not anticipated Bucky throwing himself over Tony's leg, sending him off balance.

Regardless, the blast found its target.

Just not the way Tony originally wanted.

~.~.~

 **19.**

There was a split second, Tony was poised to retaliate but he faltered the moment Bucky dove for Steve instead, screaming Steve's name.

That was when they both truly saw the extent of Steve's state.

The blast, its power increased far more than was needed to disarm or disable, seared a blackened, mangled mess that used to be Steve's chest. With each hoarse heave from Steve, they could see his uniform shifting, skin tearing and blood trickling down. If they looked closely enough (not that either of them _wanted_ to), they might have seen the ghostly white of Steve's ribs and the stuttering tremors of his heart and lungs.

Bucky pressed his good hand – the one where warmth and flesh could still be felt – against Steve's skin, which quickly sunk into a bubble of blood.

" No ... no ..." His voice is heavy with shuddering gulps, desperation beginning to choke him. " Get up! Steve, get up!"

Steve tried to smile or grimace, to say something that came out as a hoarse gurgle of blood. Bucky begged him not to speak, to rather save his strength. But Steve's earnest bright blue eyes gleamed and flickered like a dying flame and with a last gasp, he managed to whisper.

" Not ... your ... fault."

It took Bucky and Tony a second to try to understand if Steve's words was directed at Tony or at Bucky or maybe at the both of them.

It took another second to realize Steve was gone.

~.~.~

 **18.**

T'Challa found them not too long after. He was startled by the sizzle of burnt skin, surprised at how neither the Winter Soldier or Tony Stark moved when he arrived and more alarmed to see Steve Rogers lying on the ground, drowned in his own blood.

His first reaction was to see if he was even alive. Bucky snarled at his approach but there was no bite to it. T'Challa extended his open palms, claws long retracted. " I mean no harm to Steve Rogers," he said gently. " I only wish to help."

Slowly, the man slumped back, defeated in ways more than one, and T'Challa quickly placed his fingers to Steve's neck, dread growing in the pit of his stomach at how cold it was at his touch. He waited for a pulse, one eye on Steve's unmoving chest and trying not to look at the blackened burn searing into the centre or on the ground that was now splattered in darkening blood and gore.

When he found none, he fought not to panic. " Call for help," he ordered in a tone that his father had taught him to use when things needed to be done _now_.

" Already did." Tony's voice was barely louder than a whisper. " But by the time they get here, he would be clinically dead for over an hour. Most people can't be revived from that."

" Steve Rogers is not 'most' people," T'Challa tersely said.

But even to his own ears, his words sounded hollow.

~.~.~

 **17.**

Long after the medics had covered Steve's body and took Zemo away, the three of them remained at the top of the facility, silently surveying the barren winter wasteland and the wreckage caused by Zemo and themselves.

" Kill me."

Bucky's words were as biting as the wind bearing down on them. His face was twisted and his body sagged like the weight of the world was crushing down on him. " Isn't it what you both wanted?" he spat, anger and grief all wrapped in it. " Then do it now."

Tony was still staring, not blinking, after the medical jet that now housed Steve's body. " Revenge is something I no longer seek," T'Challa murmured. He paused, choosing his next words carefully. " Steve Rogers would not want you to throw away your life like this."

The defeated howl that escaped the Winter Soldier's lips was more than enough to make Tony close his eyes and T'Challa to bow his head in sorrow.

~.~.~

 **16.**

Sam fidgeted restlessly. There was still no word about what happened to Steve and Bucky and if they managed to stop Zemo from unleashing the other Winter Soldiers. And of course, no word about Tony who had went after them.

He demanded answers from the guards and yet they told him nothing. But there was something akin to pity in their eyes whenever they deposited his meals that made his skin crawl.

Steve was not the kind of man to abandon his comrades. He had yet to voice his hopes to the others out loud, out of fear that they would be heard. But it was enough to keep him going. Captain America – no, Steve Rogers was able to stir that kind of hope in people, no matter how dim and bleak the situation appeared to be.

So he would wait for Steve. As long as it took.

~.~.~

 **15.**

Vision was already waiting for him when the Quinjet landed. His face brightened with relief upon seeing Tony alive.

Only for his expression to change into horror when he realized who else was brought in a body bag.

Tony kept walking. He couldn't look at anyone else. Their whispers grew louder and louder. Their stares became more pointed and accusatory. And he couldn't breath.

" Stark?" Hill's voice was a mixture of emotions that he was too much of a coward to decipher. " What happened?"

~.~.~

 **14.**

The coroner was only able to complete half of his report when an assistant said some higher-ups were requesting an audience with him. He was barely out the door when the ventilation shaft opened and Natasha slipped down.

Ten minutes was all she needed.

She had to see Steve for her own confirmation, for herself to see with her own eyes. Documents could be faked. Witnesses could be deceived.

(because deep down, as irrational as it was, she refused to believe that Steve Rogers would let death claim him when there was so much at stake and so many lives in danger and too much to lose)

But despite all her attempts of checking and rechecking dozens of times, there was no denying that the body in the coroner's office was the body of her friend and leader.

Harsh bitter tears, tears that she thought she was no longer capable of having, came unbidden and quick. She angrily brushed them aside, as if they burned her skin. Tears are for children, she bitterly reasoned.

(but who would weep for Steve Rogers?)

She kissed his forehead for the last time. " хорошо спать," she whispered.

If the coroner later noticed a few droplets of water against the pale skin, he simply mistook it for the melting ice clinging to the still defrosting body's hair.

~.~.~

 **13.**

Ross surveyed the shield that laid across his desk, its gloss dimmed and faded. Much like its previous owner. " Congratulations," he said, smiling without any gratification. " You did something right."

It was genuinely sincere that Tony wanted to throw up.

~.~.~

 **12.**

It only took four words to shatter their world.

" Steve Rogers is dead."

Clint leaped to his feet, swearing up a storm that they were lying and there was no way Steve could have died.

The prepared snide remark died in Scott's throat as he could only gape in horror.

For the first time in days, life returned to Wanda's eyes and it was filled with confusion, panic and rage.

Sam's own weight couldn't support him as he sagged against the wall, guilt wrapping around his neck that it was by his own omission that he might as well been the one to pull the trigger to Steve's head.

Those four words shattered their world and there was nothing left to keep them standing.

~.~.~

 **11.**

The news of Steve Roger's death exploded in a frenzy in the media.

Some cheered. Others cried out in protest. Many questioned the validity of what happened and if his actions were enough to warrant a death sentence.

Accusations, opinions and debates flew through television and the media and it only continued to rapidly gain momentum as the hours and days crawled by.

~.~.~

 **10.**

Less than a week later, the Raft was broken into and four inmates went missing.

~.~.~

 **9.**

T'Challa found Natasha standing by the balconies, gazing out to the surrounding thickets of the jungle. " He would have liked it here," she said as a way of a greeting.

He stood next to her. " He would have. In another circumstance, I believe the two of us may have been friends."

The corners of her mouth twitched. The first time in days.

~.~.~

 **8.**

" I want to go back under the ice," Bucky announced to them. The funeral they had for a body-less coffin had already left them weary and numb and lost.

T'Challa frowned and the others looked at Sam imploringly. He was the remaining person (alive) who knew Bucky, even if it was only to a small extent. " Steve wouldn't want that," Sam said, rubbing his head. " He did all of this so you would live. Don't let his efforts go to waste."

Bucky's eyes were dead, even long before the funeral. " How could I live with myself knowing everything Steve did for me cost him his life?" he quietly asked.

~.~.~

 **7.**

" Delivery for a Tony Stank?"

Rhodey could see how Tony's eyes lit up for a second, believing, hoping it was some intentional prank by Steve Rogers. It was something the man would have done, to lighten the mood and make some of them crack a smile. Rhodey had experienced several of these kind of jokes after a botched mission.

But as it turned out, it was just some misspelled name. Nothing more.

~.~.~

 **6.**

They sat around in a circle late at night, surrounded by empty bottles and several more prepared for them. T'Challa and other Wakandians were kind enough to set aside food, drinks and other necessities for them as they grieved for their lost leader.

" And then he looked me in the eye, always so serious, and wondered why my hair was on fire," Wanda smiled, after taking a long sip from the bottle. They chuckled, remembering the mission of how Steve got a concussion and kept patting Wanda's hair throughout the entire flight home to "put it out" in his own words. In another time, someone might have chided her for drinking alcohol at her age but all of them were too exhausted to do it.

They were all reminiscing, sharing stories and keeping the memory of Steve alive. Not only his heroic deeds but his faults, flaws and mistakes also.

To their surprise, Bucky who had remained silent and sat away from the rest of them reached for the bottle next.

" He was a no-good punk that didn't know how to back down from a fight," he started without much heat. " He was too stubborn for his own good, always quick to rush into danger for the greater good. Forgot half the time that he was just the little guy from Brooklyn. And ... and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world." He swallowed. " To Steve."

" To Steve," they echoed.

~.~.~

 **5.**

At night, Sam dreamt of Steve, half of a frozen corpse, sitting in his support group, smiling a lopsided bloody smile and asking Sam why he told Tony where he and Bucky had been and why did Sam betray him and left him for dead?

At night, Tony dreamt of the others hunting him down to avenge Steve's death, their looks of pure rage and hate searing into his mind, while his father urged him to stand his ground and take them on like a Stark.

At night, Wanda dreamt she was dragged back to the Raft, the collar burning against her neck and her cries for Steve were unheard as he was shot and riddled with bullets before her very eyes, just like Pietro.

At night, T'Challa dreamt his father and Steve pacing at the snowy mountain top, both covered in blood, muttering to each other that there was too much to be done and they couldn't be dead now, when war was upon them, for who would take up their mantle now?

At night, Bucky didn't dream at all. He couldn't sleep. Wouldn't sleep. Because if he did, he was afraid what his nightmares would look like.

~.~.~

 **4.**

Sharon concentrated on her duties, ignoring any pitying stares or harsh whispers that followed her whenever she left a room. There was little time to grieve, with so much work to do, and part of it distracted her and kept her sane.

It was easier to do, to not think about how her beloved great-aunt was buried no less than two weeks ago and Steve was –

She stopped, gripping the papers in her hands so tight they dug into her palms. The memory of his kiss remained and if she chose to dwell on it, she could still feel the warmth of his lips and the strength of his hand wrapped reassuringly around her waist.

The hollow feeling was building in her chest and she clenched her hands to stop them from shaking.

~.~.~

 **3.**

Aunt May didn't understand why he wouldn't leave his room. She pleaded with him to eat something, to talk to her. What happened in Germany? She asked. Did something happen between you and Tony Stark?

There was no possible way Peter could even begin to explain what really happened to Aunt May. So he pretended he was ill instead, content to stay hidden in his bedroom as if it would solve all his problems.

 _Look, kid. There's a lot going on here that you don't understand._

Steve Rogers' words echoed in his head, casting doubt. What had Tony Stark omitted in telling him about this battle that he jumped into?

He didn't signed up for this. Oh God, he didn't sign up for this.

~.~.~

 **2.**

In the end, Bucky went back down under the ice despite their pleads. The last expression they saw on his face was that of relief and a glimmer of peace.

They could see it in his eyes, how tired he was, how exhausted of everything he was.

It was perhaps the closest to death he could get, so he could join Steve.

~.~.~

 **1.**

When Tony first woke from his drunken stupor, he saw Steve Rogers standing before him.

" You shouldn't be doing this to yourself," Steve said with a maddeningly disapproving sigh. He glanced around the floor, noticing the litter of empty bottles and obliviously ignoring Tony's slack jaw and stunned expression.

" You – you – " Tony was unable to unhinge his tongue from the roof of his mouth. He wondered if he was still dreaming. Or going crazy. " You _can't_ be here."

Steve's tone was mild. " Why not?" he pressed.

" Because I –" he choked off, unable to finish.

 _I tried to kill Bucky. I wanted him dead. I wanted to kill you too. For a moment, I wanted you dead. And I ended up killing you._

" Was it worth it?" The ghostly image of Steve asked gently.

The Avengers were broken and shattered beyond any hope of repairing. Vision wandered around the house, lost and alone. Rhodey was busy trying to grip his new reality. Natasha was missing, probably off to join Sam and the others. They wouldn't want to speak to him, not after what happened with the Raft. Thor and Bruce was nowhere to be found.

And Steve was dead.

" No." The bitterness tasted like bile in his mouth. " It wasn't worth it."


End file.
